The Triumph of Ganoosh
by Arienna
Summary: Ganoosh is a tough little Leper Gnome who is forced to toil over the looms in the basement of a tailoring shop in Silvermoon. He dreams of escaping to rejoin his comrades in Gnomeregan, but will he succeed, or will fate stop him along the way? Oneshot.


_**A/N:** I just wrote this up in two hours because I really always liked little Ganoosh in Undercity. There are theories that he's not an actual Leper Gnome, but if that were the case then this story would not exist. If you like this, please R+R. If it becomes popular, who knows? It might continue (I did leave a lame cliffhanger there after all)._

_Please note that this story is written about World of Warcraft. I do not hold any rights to the game, nor did any poor sap from Blizzard pay me to write this._

**The Triumph of Ganoosh**

* * *

Ganoosh didn't like being called a "leper." He was never sure who, or what, a leper was, but it sounded unpleasant and even offensive. He had been a valiant fighter and before that, he had been.. he could never be sure what he was before_. Probably a used Mechstrider dealer_ (definitely a used Mechstrider dealer, though he never could admit it), he thought. Any life or memories before the attack at Gnomeregon seemed inconsequential. Those damned Troggs were probably camped outside his beloved home city right now. He sighed.

"No sssssighing!" shrieked Siri. The wretched demoness had her whip raised, ready to strike at him.

Siri, Sirigna'no, evil wench, was the guardian Succubus of his division. The word "division" really didn't suit the arrangement though. "Forced labor" was a better description of the group of Leper Gnomes that toiled over looms in the dimly-lit sanctum of Silvermoon City. Conditions were rough and any sign of rebellion by any the workers was swiftly dealt with.

He chanced a look at Gordrin. The poor gnome had his big toe cut off after it was discovered that he wove a vulgar picture of what can only be described as a "male organ" onto sheets that were being custom-made for Regent Theron. Gordrin was a crafty weaver and concealed the design well enough that it could only be seen at a certain angle. The regent's secretary had been furious at the affront to His Regency and demanded that the sheets be re-woven free of charge with their intended design: ornately-curved begonias with playful kittens.

Siri announced break time with a deft crack of the whip and the gnomes queued up at the foot of the long twisting ramp that led to the ground level. A sack of onions was unceremoniously tossed down the ramp, undoubtedly by their one of their master's apprentices. The gnomes tore the sack apart, attempting to hold onto multiple onions while going in for more. Siri watched this with amusement, knowing that no crack of the whip could cause her more satisfaction than seeing the pint-sized workers attempt to fight each other off while trying to hold onto their spoils.

"Oh, I tell you, Ganoosh," remarked Milsey, "When I finish the Grand Magister's tapestry, I'm asking for a raise!"

"What are you going to do with two extra coppers each week?" Ganoosh asked incredulously.

Milsey quailed at his friend's harsh response, but quickly regained his characteristic crooked smile.

"Not sure yet. Which do you think Siri would like more, a peacebloom flower or sack of mild spices?"

Ganoosh bit into his onion and pretended not to hear the question. There Gnomeregon was, falling to Troggs, and all Milsey could think of was taking their abusive foreman out on a date. He had to get away from this dungeon, but how? Where? The world was so unkind to his small green brethren. He began to cry, but was swiftly reprimanded by Siri's whip.

"I think she does it out of love," Milsey said dreamily. "Like a mother protecting her ducklings."

* * *

"Inspection! Ssstand up and face zee master!" snapped Siri.

Master Keelen came down every night before bedtime to check the progress and quality of the work. He was a slender, but vicious man who enjoyed humiliating his subjects as a show of power. He paused over Gordric's work.

"You better not be weaving any more lewd.." he examined the cloth carefully, then replaced it. "Good."

He stopped at Ganoosh's loom to inspect the pet blanket he was making.

"What in the name of Kael'thas is this? The knottings are too loose!" he exploded. "How do you expect Lady Bloodthistle's cat to slumber restfully on this potato sack?!"

The Leper Gnome bowed his head submissively, but his master kept on.

"Remember that talk we had about group synergy, Ganoosh?"

He nodded slowly.

"I did that whole trust-building exercise all for your benefit and it gets thrown back in my face in the form of an inferior pet blanket!"

The "trust-building" exercise was a horrifyingly humiliating event where Keelen had made him stand on the money-counting table with his back to his peers. He then made the Ganoosh fall backward into the waiting hands of the other gnomes. He had never fully overcome the trauma caused by it. Cruel Master Keelen needed to be overthrown, preferably in a bloodless coup.

He continued his inspection of the division, then retired to his room upstairs. The rest of the gnomes continued work, but Ganoosh and Gordrin were scheduled for "powernaps" (another method of torture devised by the nefarious tailor). Gordrin was never very chatty, but he turned over on his mat to face Ganoosh.

"Is it just me or do you think that Master Keelen is a Trogg sympathizer?"

Ganoosh rolled to face the wall and forced himself to meditate on a quiet safe place, as Keelen had taught. He thought about life outside of the sanctum and wondered if he would ever get back to his home. He fell into a nearly restless sleep, his snoring being broken off every now and then by the sound of Siri's cruel whip.

And when he awoke, a plan found its way to him. He would need to manipulate Milsey's bizarre fascination with the demoness to cause a momentary distraction. Ganoosh couldn't fail in his plan. A single wrong move could land him in the cage for a week. He shivered to think of Pokzol's last day in the metal box. It was suspended from the ceiling so that Siri, as well as the rest of the gnomes, would be constantly aware of the cries and moans. Poor Pokzol kept repeating, "I've been a bad, bad gnome!" before breaking into endless sobs.

"So I should get her a peacebloom flower, eh? I've only got a few coppers as it is, I'll be broke!" Milsey said after Ganoosh approached him.

"I'll lend you my wages for it," he replied.

The plan was in motion and he knew Siri's reaction would buy him time.

* * *

"Sirigna'no, I really just don't think you're being sensitive to his needs," Keelen said to his minion.

"But…Masssster. He hass some.. infatuation with me! I cannot have it. I zink we need to have zee seminar on sexual harassment again!" she rasped.

"Come now, minionette. It's just a flower. It's only sexual harassment if Milsey tries to..you know.." he fumbled for the politically correct word for "grope."

"No, master, I do not know. Tell me."

"Argh, forget it, Siri. Sometimes… when a male demon has certain longing for… female demons. They show their feelings-- " he replied clumsily.

"Yes. We torture each other," she replied confidently.

"No. Bad example. Ah, forget it. Just let it slip this once, please? I don't want you waking me up over things like this all the time," he laid back down.

It was late in the afternoon and Siri was surprised to see her master sleeping. She hadn't sensed any bout of sickness and he'd been getting plenty of rest. He had said something about being jilted by a lady named Zyandrel. The name was familiar to Siri and she made a mental note to exact revenge on the woman when she had a spare moment. Turning on her hoof, she left her master's chambers.

* * *

With the Succubus gone, Ganoosh had barely enough time to sneak up the ramp and past the apprentices before Siri returned. He hugged himself to the wall, careful to step past the mana loom and stray bolts of cloth lying around. There it was! The outside. The sun was beginning to set and Ganoosh frantically looked around for the mode of transportation he was going to have to depend on.

There it was.

He tottered over to the magical broom and launched himself at it, wrapping his arms and legs around the handle. Shutting his eyes tightly (vomiting on a guard's shoe from motion sickness would be a bad change in plans), he braced himself against the magically-possessed cleaning utensil.

Blood Elves were such stupidly tall creatures that none of them noticed Ganoosh clinging to the broom for dear life. If he fell, however, his plan would be ruined. The elves jostled about the marketplace and the little gnome was relieved to see that the broom had delivered him exactly where he needed to be.

The Sunfury Spire was a vibrant and majestic building. A lush red carpet led up to the entrance, which was guarded on both sides by at least ten sentinels. His plan, if he was crafty enough, was to sneak behind the big dumb creatures and make his way up to the Orb of Translocation inside. As he neared the ramp, however, his hopes faded. There were no shadowy areas where he could sneak alongside them.

"Just my luck," he muttered.

As he had uttered those words, an Arcane Guardian turned its head, eliciting painful sound of grinding rock as it did so. The giant towered over him, its body glowing fiercely with arcane energy. Ganoosh shrunk back, expecting to be smashed into tiny gnome pieces. Oh, and he had come so close too!

"Happiness is mandatory, citizen!" the golem boomed. It stomped onward, only stopping to accost an amorous couple on a bench.

Ganoosh breathed a sigh of relief. _These Blood Elves are so stupid, _he thought. _It must've been too easy for their enemies to destroy their city. It's like Naga taking candy from a Kobold. _He paused momentarily to laugh at the thought of a Kobold screeching "You no take candy!"

A brightly-feathered Hawkstrider rode up to the foot of the ramp and its rider sat momentarily on the saddle, looking around confusedly. The Leper Gnome's eyes widened as he realized that he had an actual safe way inside! He rubbed his hands gleefully and sprinted toward the mount, leaping up and digging his hands into the plume of feathers on its tail.

The bird let out an angry squawk and bounded up the ramp, almost throwing its rider off her saddle. As they passed, the guards saluted.

"Al diel shala, baby," he said as he darted into the sanctum. The orb was not kept up front, much to Ganoosh's dismay. He released his hold from the animal and clung to the dark curtained walls, shutting his eyes tightly to hide their glow. Inching along the wall, he came up a ramp and peeked into the sanctum beyond. There it was!

The orb was bathed in swirling light. A commotion erupted behind him and Ganoosh could hear the sound of a whip snapping.

"You dare try to stop me? I am after a fugitive! A gnome has fled from zee service of my master! I demand entrance!!" Siri blustered.

The little gnome rushed to the orb and placed both hands on its smooth pulsating glass. What he experienced next was a rush of feelings and emotions he could never anticipate. He was nauseous, but also happy..but also terribly frightened. Bright lights swarmed around him, leaving him disoriented.

Eventually, his vision cleared and he found himself standing in what looked to be a deserted castle.

"Undercity!" he yelped.

He rushed down the stairs and across the drawbridge as quickly as he could. The place was a maze, so he decided to follow an elderly Undead gentleman. They stepped into the elevator together and that familiar awkward silence ensued.

"How's the weather?" Ganoosh asked nervously, hoping to make himself look like he fit in.

"Garrrghhhblgghh.. I don't feel weatherrr," wailed the skeleton.

The Leper Gnome nodded politely and made sure to turn the opposite direction that the skeleton-man when the doors opened. Undercity was ghastly (no pun intended). Ganoosh's nose was assaulted by all sorts of disgusting sights and smells. He made his way to the middle of the city and descended to the lower level. He needed to find work of some sort.

He knew that it would have to be something simple starting out. Possibly minimum wage with a chance at a raise in six months. In the shadows sat an old cockroach peddler. The Undead's ragged face looked sad and Ganoosh decided to ask him if he had any work for him.

"Bah! No!" the vendor spat.

"Do you know where I can find a job, at least?" he asked.

"Go to the Apothecarium. They need test subjects..er.. pageboys there."

The gnome nodded and was off. He had to ask the ogre guards for directions every now and then. Their meaty fingers pointed him in the right direction. He came upon a dark tunnel that led into a laboratory. The crackle of electric static assaulted his ears and he covered them as he approached the man in charge.

"Hi!" he said cheerfully to the living corpse. _First impressions are always vital._

"What is it?" the doctor droned.

"I heard you need test subjects, so I thought I'd come here and offer my help!" He couldn't remember if the cockroach seller had said "test subject" or "pageboy" so he decided to play it safe.

The Undead let out a sigh and Ganoosh could see a moth flutter out of his open mouth.

"We already have enough. We do need an errand boy though."

And Ganoosh gratefully took on the job, running packages, skulls, and the beating hearts of virgins back and forth for Doctor Halsey. Siri the demoness was unable to travel to Undercity to chase him down because of the link to her master. He learned to love the putrid city, and hoped one day that he might even find an undead gnome there. Even if it was wishful thinking, it was better than making pet blankets.

OR SO HE THOUGHT...


End file.
